


The Lying Game

by SaintDeanThomas



Series: The Road To Legacy [3]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: F/M, Gen, Possession, headcanons, i'm gonna be honest this is like 85 percent headcanons but then again who's gonna stop me, mutual blackmail, putting the sensual in consensual possession if you get what i'm saying, the worst people just the worst but i love them, vlad's got a lot of baggage lets rummage through it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-30 13:57:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11465010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDeanThomas/pseuds/SaintDeanThomas
Summary: Vlad and his old college classmate Harriet Chin meet up to have a nice dinner and maybe catch up a bit. Of course this is Amity Park though, so nothing stays buried for too long before things take an unexpected turn.





	1. Perjury

The restaraunt was empty except for him, but this was honestly part of Vlad’s plan. When he first got the call from his college associate, Harriet Chin, to meet for dinner, he was skeptical about what she could want with him considering their last meeting was less than amicable -as he recalled he’d indirectly gotten her fired from her position at the Milwaukee Journal- but after a bit of debate, Vlad realized this could be an opportunity for some good press on his end. Lately, it seemed like the citizens of Amity Park had become more and more agitated with the frequency of ghost attacks and as their mayor, they expected him to do something about it (even though as far as they knew, he was only human).

While deep in concentration, a loud crash pulled him out of his scheming daze. Looking over, he saw that a panicked waiter had dropped a bottle of wine, sending ice and glass flying across the floor. Catching the young man’s eyes, Vlad motioned for him to come closer, watching as he held the now empty platter against his chest like a shield.

“I am so, so sorry Mayster Mayors we’ll have that cleaned up in a jiffy… I-I-I mean Masters Mayor… I mean…”

The boy looked so close to tears that Vlad had to hold up a hand signaling him to stop talking. “You look a little young to be working here, son, what’s your name?”

“I-I’m Michael Cyran, sir, but, uh, most people call me Mikey.”

Mikey, Vlad recalled, was one of Daniel’s classmates, a nervous boy prone to screaming and fleeing easier than most, which made his accident even more obvious in hindsight.

“Well Michael,” he said, calmly treading his fingers together over the emptying bread basket, “I’m here for a very important meeting tonight, so i need everything to be perfect, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Excellent,” he continued, grabbing a roll and slowly ripping it open, “because I’d absolutely hate for there to be an issue like this further into evening, right?”

Mikey wasn’t sure how the mayor had made eating bread sinister but he decided right then and there to channel every ounce of coordination he had into the next four hours of service. “I… I won’t let you down, sir”

“Good man,” Vlad said with a smile, “and you have my word that if all goes well you’ll get a tip so great you’ll never have to take the bus again.”

With the two great uniters of men -money and fear- both offered to him the span of minutes, Mikey vigourously nodded and ran back to the kitchen to get a broom. Listening to the clatter in the other room as he buttered his roll, Vlad chuckled to himself about the fact that he still had the capacity to scare regular teenagers despite that fact that they seemed to be his worst enemies elsewhere.

——–

He was on to his fifth roll by the time his guest arrived. Harriet Chin. She had a professional aire about her; a silver power suit with a skirt and expensive looking black heels -though he suspected she was wearing them because she was still sensitive about her height- that complemented her features well. Time had been kind to her, as her face hadn’t shown much wear since their college years and was still a professional mask of beauty punctuated with calculating turqouise eyes. Vlad recognized her composure immediately, she was here to work but also to make an impression; you cannot hope to beat me. He wasn’t even sure what she thought the challenge was going to be but she was prepared to fight and to win… he could respect that.

“Vladdie,” she called, waving him down as if he weren’t the only one there, “I’m so glad you agreed to come.”

As she threw her arms around him, Vlad couldn’t help but notice she smelled like cinnamon, a smell that fit her personality perfectly; pleasant but dangerous if you’re careless. “Why Ms. Chin,” he said, standing to hug her back and get her seat, “that’s not the behavior i’d expect from a professional like you.”

“Well, Mayor Masters,” she began, taking a roll from the basket and rolling it in her hands, “I thought we should go ahead and get the pleasantries out the way now. That way, in a few minutes if you want to run away, you’ll remember that I’m not just another reporter trying to steamroll you, I’m your friend…. and a reporter trying to steamroll you.”

The sincerity and confidence with which she spoke left Vlad so stunned he didn’t even notice Mikey come back to the table and ask if they were ready to order.

“I think I’ll have the steak and potatoes,” Harriet said, resting her head on her fingers with a half smile, “and you, mister mayor?”

Snapping back to the moment, Vlad offered his own tight smile as he closed the menu he ’d been neglecting. “Just the roast chicken for me,” he said, passing it off to Mikey but never taking his eyes of Harriet, “and a glass of your best red, wouldn’t want this evening to get dry.”

“Oh,” she said, sensing his challenge, “better make it two, kid.”

——

After several minutes of conversation, Vald found himself becoming comfortable around Harriet, even though he had yet to find his opening for manipulation amidst her control of the situation. They’d already gone over his plans for the city budget and his ideas about what to do about the increasing amount of vacancies around town recently -both of which could be summed up as “I have it under control you should trust me I am a competent mayor”- and every other topic except for the elephant in the room; ghosts. This was deliberate on his part of course, as any time they came close to the subject he announced some new community project for her to report on or tried to make a joke, some of which even managed to get a laugh from her.

“Alright, alright, fine,” Harriet said, her laughter dying down, “enough politics for tonight, okay? Besides, the amount of alcohol I’d need to keep pretending to care about your budget plans for another minute is, quite rankly, staggering.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded, tracing his finger around the rim of his glass, “though you’ll excuse me if my conversation skills are a bit rusty.”  
“Nonsense, all that fascinating talk of local budgets and condemned buildings was so smooth i really had to contain myself.”

“Well my dear, I hope that’s off record for your sake.”

“Speaking of ‘off the record,’” she said, putting her phone away after saving their conversation and visibly relaxing, “how about we stop acting like strangers and start talking like people who actually know each other. I’ve been in town for almost a year and it’s like you’d forgotten I’d existed until tonight.”

It was true of course, over the last year Vlad had been so caught up with his own… pursuits, that he had barely acknowledged Harriet’s move to Amity Park after their disastrous college reunion. In fact, if he hadn’t seen her reporting from here after he put a bounty on Danny Phantom, he probably wouldn’t have thought about her much. “Sorry, dear,” he said, cycling back to the conversation at hand, “but in fairness you didn’t exactly move mountains to contact me, either.”

He was caught of guard by the burst of bitter laughter that statement solicited from her. “Oh yeah, cause that would’ve gone well. ‘Hi, Vlad, it’s Harriet from college, remember me? I flirted with you for maybe half a second before you vanished from the reunion and Jack Fenton had his little ‘episode’ while everything went to hell, I see you also moved to Amity Park, were you chasing the same ghost stories that got you fired too?’”

Vlad went silent and began to unpack her response. The first thing he noted was that she had come to town looking for ghosts after all - a common trait for their little circle it would appear- and, much like him, it seemed that she blamed Jack Fenton’s buffoonery for her misfortune. The second was far more incredulous.

“What was that first bit again?”

“Remember me?”

“No, after that,”

“Were you chasing ghosts?”

“No, well yes we’ll get back to that soon, but i’m more curious about what you said before that, about the college reunion?”

Watching as Harriet’s face began to redden in the dim bistro lighting, Vlad found himself fidgeting with his tie, nervously anticipating her response. “Okay, look, I know you guys are still best friends and all but I swear, Jack Fenton has a superpower for ruining other people’s moments while making himself the center of attention. Like.. okay, remember that practice race we had for spirit week in 82’? I had just finished running and was coming to talk to you when all of a sudden, bam! Jack’s there with an arm full of water balloons, pelting us and most of the varsity team from the high seats. No 'good job Harriet’ or 'way to go,’ nope, he just went straight to being back in the spotlight cause once again class was done and big J was there to have fun.”

Gradually recalling the day in question, Vlad found himself staring down at a memory of Harriet waving to him and Maddie in the bleachers as she pulled ahead of everyone. She’d always said that he was her lucky charm so he had made sure to drag Maddie and Jack to every practice and every race he could, and when they couldn’t make it he was there cheering by himself, Those were some of his most pleasant memories of college, of course, the smiles and the cheering had all come before….

“-and don’t get me started on that nasty accident sophomore year.”

There it was. Just like that, Vlad was flying from the track field to the science lab, mentally reliving the proto-portal accident that had fast-tracked his downward spiral. The bright green flash that briefly dissolved into a terrifying swirling maelstrom of red and black before the muted browns and greys of the lab came rushing back into his vision as he pulled his head from the machine, clutching his face and screaming as his skin flared with ecto-acne and he lost his chances at the person he knew was the love of his life to a man he’d once called his best friend.

As she watched him cycle through emotions, Harriet gradually tried to move away from the subject. “Anyway after that we all just drifted apart, I lost contact with Jack and Maddie after I got my internship and by that point you had cut us all off, so imagine my surprise when you show up here with Jack Fenton as you biggest supporter like no time had passed. I mean, considering Jack’s size I can only imagine how hard it was for you to be the bigger person, but-”

“Excuse you,” he said, holding up his hand and cutting her off for the first time, his hands trembling with barely restrained fury, “what do you mean I cut you all off? After the accident I was a social outcast! I couldn’t even show my face on campus half the time without people pointing and whispering, you included if i recall correctly.”

Now it was her turn to get indignant. “I don’t know what you think you remember, mister Masters, but as soon as you were out of the hospital we all tried to come see you, to call you, to get you to talk to us anyway we could, but you kept brushing us off. The only time we ever saw you was when you came out of that creepy therapist’s office, and every time you did it was like you were pushing further and further away. And you know what, i understood, Jack had almost killed you for all we knew and Maddie was too busy reassuring him to even check on you by herself, but me? I spent weeks just trying to get you to talk to me before I…” she deflated slightly, a twinge of guilt crossing her face as she played with her drink, “I just moved on, Vlad.”

Looking her over, Vlad also felt his anger leave him, not completely disappearing but instead transforming into confusion. Harriet had given up on him? That means he was a lot worse off than he remembered, if memory served him correctly that woman rarely gave up on anything, regardless of the risks it posed to her own safety. In fact, he vaguely remembered an occasion when she had chased after a bus for two blocks with a sprained ankle just to retrieve Maddie’s notebook, and she didn’t even have class that day. What’s more… Therapist? At the mere mention of the word black spots began to swim in his vision as if he were about to lose consciousness.

“Ms. Chin,” he began, drumming his finger on his cheek, “I’m not sure what you think you remember but I can promise you I don’t remember anything about a therapist after my little 'accident.’”

“Well your brain had just been fried, so I can believe there’s a lot missing upstairs,” she began, careful to insult him in a neutral tone, “but trust me, as much time as you spent in that weird woman’s office you definitely should have a few memories rolling around up there.”

Weird woman? The more Harriet spoke the more Vlad knew she was telling the truth. She’d showed up right after the accident and spent twice a week with him for almost a month. Slowly but surely he began to recall their conversations; how they’d talked about Maddie and Jack and how Vlad had fallen behind in the race for her affections, how she encouraged him to devote more time to himself and how if his friends really cared they’d make more of an effort regardless of what his face looked like. The more he forced himself to remember the more his vision began to swim. He’d been miserable in those sessions, and yet he kept coming back to her, spilling his guts every chance he got to a face that never seemed to stop smiling regardless of how close he’d gotten to tears and how after a certain point Vlad had just wanted to throw her out a window just to get her away from him. That was when he knew he’d never let himself feel weak again, when he decided he needed control. He hated her. He hated Jack for putting him on a collision course with her, for abandoning him after years of friendship and for stealing Maddie from him - who he wished could love him back now more than ever just so that he could get the mysterious demoness’ condescending smile out of his head.

… But what. was. her. name?

The fact that he couldn’t remember her name was the most infuriating part of the new memory. Sure, her face seemed to always be obscured by shadows despite the clarity of conversation, but that was nothing compared to the fury of not knowing her name. As an added insult, Vlad could now hear her laughter penetrating all his thoughts, drowning out reality completely and providing a shrill soundtrack to the onslaught of repressed negative memories.

“Jesus Christ!”

Vlad was brought back to reality by the sound of Mikey screaming and the sensation of Harriet shaking him. “Vlad,” she screamed, mistaking his retrospective for astonishment, “move!”

Cutting through the fog of memory and looking around the restaurant for the first time, he bit back a confectionary curse as Harriet pushed him out of the way and a steak knife embedded itself in the wall where he had been. All around them silverware and furniture had begun to levitate and spin across the room, abandoning the food and candles which had begun haphazardly hurling themselves into the walls and ceiling. Calming himself down, Vlad realized that this had apparently been going on long enough for Harriet to take out her phone and start recording, her focus so intense that she was completely ignoring the wine currently staining her suit from as it tumbled to the floor and joined what was left of their meal once he’d regained control.

“Well then,” he said, surveying the damage and the frightened looks on the wait-staff’s face while trying to sound casual, “I suppose you found tomorrow’s headline.”

“Yes!” she cheered, much to his surprise,“I knew it! I knew it was you!”

“Beg pardon?” All the moisture had gone from his mouth…he’d been exposed.

“The reunion, the explosion, that time the town got sucked into that weird ghost dimension, t-the the fact that after you showed up in town the Wisconsin ghost started showing up more and more…”

“Harriet, wait, I can explain,” he began, still attempting to regain composure from him slip of concentration earlier.

“You’re haunted, Vlad, genuinely stalked-by-spirits haunted! You’re my ticket back to the top!”

Stunned, Vlad started the mental gymnastics necessary to catch up with Harriet’s train of thought. She didn’t suspect him as the cause, she believed that he was simply the subject, and she was going to use that to whatever advantage she could professionally, he could respect that… of course he could also use that to his advantage.

“So you were using me… as bait?” he said, putting on his best sad/offended voice while suppressing his own building admiration.

Not missing a beat, she walked over to where the knife had plunged into the drywall and removed it. “Don’t look at it like that,” she said, peering into the indent as if were hiding information from her, “look at it like this; now you’ve got a Pulitzer nominated reporter -who is now certain she isn’t going insane- on your side to make you look good for the press, and all you have to do it sit still, look pretty, and answer my questions occasionally whenever things like this happen. I mean, ghosts and goblins and all that were always more you guys’ area of expertise, so I have a bit of catching up to do before I go public with anything, but this time I’ll be prepared.”

For the upteenth time that evening, Vlad found himself stunned. Entrapment and blackmail? He wasn’t sure whether to be indignant or enamormed with her. “I see,” he said, stroking his chin like a stereotypical villain from a cartoon, “so tell me, miss Chin, what’s stopping me from ignoring your deal altogether and simply finding my good press somewhere else, perhaps your associate Lance Thunder would be open for an interview.”

“Lance Thunder is a fucking joke and you and I both know it, Vladdie,” she said, carelessly tossing an errant strand of hair from her face as if stating that water is wet, an objective fact, “besides, I have something Lance could never offer.”

“Which is?”

Instead of saying anything, Harriet simply took out a sheet of paper and and a pen and scribbled a note before flipping it over and sliding it across the table to him. Rather than waiting on him to read it, she quickly gathered her things and stood to leave. “It’s been fun catching up, Vladdie,” she said, making her way over the debris and to the door before turning to wink at him, “and I really do hope you’ll keep in touch.”

Watching as the door closed behind her, Vlad found himself sitting alone in the dim lighting with nothing but the note and the whispers of the staff -who had retreated into the kitchen for cover during his power surge- for company. Turning the small slip of paper over, Vlad read it no less than five times only to suddenly find himself in need of a glass of water… possibly a large pitcher if one were available. “Oh Michael,” he called, summoning the cowardly waiter from the kitchen, “ I think that’s enough excitement for the night, I’ll take the check now.”


	2. Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game continues as Vlad and Harriet find themselves alone again after a change of plans.

This was supposed to be her weekend off, and Lance knew that, but he'd still gotten her placed on this bum assignment because she had the audacity to suggest she should be getting more stories. She was going to kill him, she'd decided that earlier that morning, and was now convinced no jury would convict her. 

Pulling out her phone to break the news to her… well she wasn't exactly sure what they were to each other at this point so she decided to just with friend, she paused as an idea took root in her mind. Dialing the personal number she'd gotten after a turbulent first meeting, Harriet anxiously waited as the phone began to ring.

“...Hello?”

“Mayor Masters,” she said, the excitement in her voice betraying more emotion than was professionally necessary, “do you know how rude it is to leave a girl waiting to hear back from you?”

“Ah, miss Chin,” he began, loudly clearing his throat, “how lovely to hear from you again. Calling with another enticing proposition no doubt?”

Turning scarlet in the back of her taxi, Harriet was glad Vlad couldn't see her face at the mention of their last encounter but kept her composure nonetheless. “Now, now Mayor Masters,” she said, “ I wouldn't want to spoil you just yet. Besides, what you call a proposition, I call another opportunity for some old friends to reconnect, this weekend, maybe?”

There was a bit of hesitation on Vlad's end as Harriet heard the muffled sounds of arguing but she simply waited for him to give a response.“Oh, well I definitely have some things to move around,” he began, the outcome of his quarrel unsure, “but this has been a… stressful week for me, so… yes, I'd love to get together. Do you have a venue planned or should I make a reservation somewhere so we can further, ah, discuss future arrangements?”

Mentally celebrating her victory, Harriet quietly composed herself for the negotiation’s killing blow.  “No,no, I've got it all planned out,” she said, a devilish grin spreading across her face, “you just be ready.”

“Excellent, just send me the details when you get a chance then, but right now I'm afraid I have an… annoyance...  to deal with. Ta-ta.”

Still smiling to herself as they drove over the Elmerton bridge, Harriet began composing the details. “I hope you enjoy latex and sweat, mister mayor,” she said to herself before hitting send, “because we have a busy weekend ahead of us.” As Vlad attempted to cover his chest for the sixth time since they’d arrived, Harriet couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Vladimir Sebastian Masters,” she teased, “are you embarrassed by a little exposed skin?”

Burying his face in his hands and shaking his head as she adjusted the straps of her boots, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson as they made their way into the crowded convention center. He knew he should have been more insistent on the details before he agreed to anything but his overconfidence in his ability to manipulate a situation had once again left him caught off guard.

“Harriet,” he began, keeping his eyes level under the brim of his hat, partially to avoid tripping and partially to avoid making eye contact with the various women they were passing, “when you told me to wear something appropriate, I thought we'd be going somewhere more... distinguished.”

“C’mon Vladdy,” Harriet said, an evil smile dancing on her face, “what's more distinguished than that.” 

As if on queue, a large man whose outfit consisted mostly of leather straps and knife sheaths walked past the pair of them, taking extra time to compliment Vlad on his costume and causing Harriet to finally lose her grip on her laughter as she led them away. All things considered, it would have been easy for her for just to reschedule her plans around the convention she'd been assigned to for the weekend, but that would have been letting that prick Lance Thunder get the best of her, and she'd sooner have died. So, here they were, standing in the midst of the state's second largest Comic Convention dressed like-

“A joke,” Vlad said, still hiding his face from the masses, “I feel like a walking joke.”

After receiving Harriet's text a few days ago, he had taken extreme caution in choosing an appropriate costume for the occasion. Now though, walking past booths and crowds in such a stark contrast to his companion - who wore a simple outfit of black jeans and a red shirt with a faded wonder woman symbol on it- he found himself embarrassed. 

“Oh lighten up, mister mayor,” she said, hooking her arm around his in a show of solidarity, “I think it's cute you went through all this trouble just for lil ol’ me.” 

Giving her a half smile for a half truth, Vlad began to relax. Being honest with himself, he knew that his reasons for going over the top with his thunder god costume were only partially about fulfilling Harriet's desires. No, more than that he was making up for lost time. During the years of his ecto acne affliction, Vlad had missed dozens of convention out of fear of attention being called to his disproportionately marred face. But now, being here with Harriet reminded him of the better times from college; the late nights laughing with Jack as they attempted to beat their Pac-Man and Burger Time high scores, the three of them cheering Harriet on during her track races, the time Jack threw Elmer Heart into the fountain for calling the girls “Ching Chong Chin and Mildew Maddie” after they'd waved him off during one of his drunk episodes ...all good memories he'd shoved into a dark recess in his mind for some reason.

Temporarily lost in actual enjoyable memories for once, Vlad allowed himself to fully smile and tilt his head up. As his unrestricted gray hair draped his shoulders and his confidence returned, he proudly fell into step beside Harriet. However, all it took was momentary eye contact with another chainmail bikini warrior to cause him to cast his glances downward again. 

_ Sweet sugar on cinnamon rolls, _ he thought, blushing furiously at the sight of so much free skin around him,  _ baby steps. _

“Okay,” Harriet announced, looking mildly annoyed at her watch, “I'm supposed to be interviewing this guy in like twenty minutes for an online article, after that, we grab a bite, then we get you out of those clothes and go salvage what light we can out of this day. You gonna be okay while I run this guy down.”

Vlad noticed that the last sentence wasn't a question so much as it was a command, but he nodded agreement nonetheless.

“Great,” she said, pulling out a tape recorder and whipping around, “never thought I'd say these words again but, meet me in the food court in forty-five, I'll even let you decide what poison we put in our body from this death trap. Aaaaaaaaand break.”

* * *

 

To her credit, it was exactly forty five minutes until she reappeared, striding through the crowd and only looking moderately annoyed as she pulled up the chair across from Vlad.

“I trust the interview went well?”

Glaring as she snatched the cup from in front  of him and took and long drink, Harriet sighed. “I swear, what do men have against using deodorant or showering? If you're meeting with someone to talk about your ‘revolutionary’ new project, it's not too much to ask that you at least have the decency to introduce yourself to soap and water beforehand, right? Ughhh.”

“Ah, well at least you got your story, right?”

“Oh yeah, 'nerds excited for new nerd shit,’ more groundbreaking news at five.”

Feeling slight pity for her, Vlad offered her the pretzel he'd been nursing since they diverged.

“My hero,” she said, a slight smile pulling at her lips, “ I also appreciate you keeping the costume on while you waited.”

The costume...oh god the costume. Vlad suddenly became very aware that he was still dressed as Raiden, god of thunder in a massively crowded room with countless witnesses. Attempting some form of suave recovery for this revelation, he removed his hat to meet her eyes over their comically small table. 

“I figured after our... disastrous last meeting,  I owed you some form of levity, besides, no one will ever believe you.”

“You're underestimating me if you think you're off record right now mister mayor. But if I were off record, I'd like to personally apologize for getting shafted by that blonde idiot into writing a puff piece at NerdCon when we should be doing almost anything else right now.”

“No apologies necessary,” he said, “this is far from the biggest indignity I've suffered since being elected into office… off record of course.”

Feeling the twinges of pulitzer-prize winning hunger coming on, Harriet began setting up the killing blow. “So, on the record now, how about an exclusive for me: why the pajamas? What does Raiden mean to you?”

Narrowing his eyes as the game began, Vlad pulled his cup back and smiled. “Ah, after another mayoral exclusive, I see?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but if this nerd shit doesn't pull readers I'd like to have a fall back to shove into Lance's punk ass face if he tries me again.”

He could respect that line of logic. “Tsk tsk tsk, such language. But I suppose I could throw you a bone.”

_ God I wish, _ Harriet thought, her face a mask of calculation _. _ Shutting that thought down before it could marinate longer, she refocused on the absurdity of interviewing her former college friend -who was now the mayor- while he was dressed like a video game deity. 

“Simply put, it's about power. The people love him, and in turn he's able to protect them without the interference of their own ignorance.”

Seeing the hunger in her eyes intensify as he spoke, Vlad began to elaborate. “When I ran for mayor, I had one goal in mind-”

_ Vengeance _

“-taking the problems out of the people’s hands and bearing the responsibility for them. And like I said, they love him for it. There's no fear, there's no resentment, there's the simple understanding that a god has spoken and he knows what's best. He's also not too bad in a fight if it comes down to it, but most people know better than to test him. Suffice it to say he's an insurmountable power in the guise of a man. ”

“And is that what you want from this position, Mayor Masters? Power to shape to the world? Presidential ambitions maybe?”

“No, Miss Chin,” he said, his eyes taking on an almost dreamlike quality, making his smile sadder than it previously was but also more sinister, “I'm afraid you've misunderstood me. I’m rich dear, by that logic alone I already have the power to change this world anyway I see fit, but before that, I have to show the people that I know the way.”

“Hmm,” she said, momentarily stunned by the intensity in his voice, “spoken like a true politician.”

“I am what I am, Harriet,” he responded, “it's like I told Daniel months ago… it's chess really, you have to stay moves ahead.”

“Mhmm, so is that why you're dressed like Gandalf’s electrician brother while drinking an overpriced mall smoothie? Some really advanced tactics at play?”

It’s amazing how much truth can come out when you’ve made the decision to underestimate your opponent in a game you weren't aware had started. “Obviously I'm only gaining your favor to use you later once the citizens turn on me after discovering the skeletons in my closet.”

“My mother was right then, you do only want me for my body, ugh, men... you're all the same.”

“Darling trust me, I'm an entirely different breed.”

“Oh yeah,” she asked, narrowing her eyes, “is that why ghosts keep blowing up your house?”

Simply. Amazing. 

“I believe that's a conversation for another day,” he responded, watching the cosplayers pass by then, “preferably one where we aren't surrounded by half naked strangers draped in latex.”

“Well  _ you're _ no fun.”

“Again, I'm rich dear, I don't have to be fun.”

“Alright, moneybags,” she teased, taking his hat and adjusting it onto her own head, “I believe you were in charge of lunch plans, and I know ol’ 'Vlad the Inhaler’ isn't gonna be full off some kiosk smoothie full of berries the seller can't even pronounce and a pretzel, so what'll it be?”

“Well seeing as I doubt you're putting yourself on the menu-”

The voice in Harriet's head had a field day with that scenario but her face held only a minute amount of interest.

“-I’ve decided that we're going to leave, there's a steakhouse near here that has a porterhouse simply beyond words, and I think we've both suffered enough indignation that we deserve it.”

“And should the silverware start floating again?”

“Well...  I've always wanted to own a restaurant.”

“You do know how to show a girl a good time,” she said, hooking her arms through his despite the embarrassed look he was trying to hide, “still, I'm sorry to have dragged you here and put you on the back burner.”

“Please,” he said, holding up a previously unseen bag from under the table, “it isn't as though I'm walking away entirely empty handed.”

Watching as she inquisitively raised her eyebrow and the corner of her mouth peaked into a smile, Vlad found himself unable to meet her eyes. “I'm allowed to enjoy myself Harriet, there are worse things in the world than a self made man broadening his horizons.”

“Are these horizons broad enough for you to keep your snazzy costume on through dinner?”

Laughing, Vlad began using his free hand to pull his curtain of hair back into its usual ponytail, already craving the feeling of being in formal wear again. “Sweet caramel corn no, as soon as we exit this building I'm finding a tailor, a furnace to dispose of the evidence and swearing you silence.”

“Just hope that Thunder doesn't test me then,” Harriet responded as they stepped outside into the beginning of a storm, “I hear you've supposedly got a pretty good handle on that element.”


	3. Shutters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, simple gift for tumblr user @igot2ne1problems/we-serve-spirits featuring Harriet and Vlad on a rainy day. She makes good stuff, go check her out if you haven't already seen her art and are a fan of this pairing.

Looking out at the torrent that was currently boring down on Amity Park, Harriet couldn’t help but find irony in the fact that the only two homes in town with power were Fenton Works and the mayor’s mansion, where she was currently shored up against the storm.

“Well,” she said, sipping wine and looking out of the foyer window as sheets of rain tried their best to fight their way inside, “on the bright side I know this is gonna make Lance absolutely miserable.”

Supposedly, it was going to be a bright and sunny for the remainder of the week, but a surprise storm system had decided to veto any chances of sunshine or outdoor fun for at least two counties. The downside was that Harriet was now restricted to being inside, where she was slowly losing her mind, however, she found her mood could be instantly improved by clicking on the news and seeing Lance Thunder be ragdolled by wind and rain for his “on the spot hourly update.”

“Well my dear,” her host said, sauntering into the room with a tray of sweets and setting them on the coffee table in front of her, “it looks as if the roads are still flooded so you may be, uh… stuck here for the evening.”

“Vladdy,” she began, tossing back the remainder of her red and grabbing a cupcake with a smile, “you sly dog, if you wanted me to spend the night here there were easier ways than drowning the city in rain, you could’ve just asked.”

Turning the same color as the wine in his hand, Vlad quickly rounded the couch and sat on the opposite end from Harriet as she rewound a moment of Lance falling into a puddle from earlier that evening, laughing. He could respect a healthy grudge and as long as it kept her attention as he composed himself, he wasn’t going to complain.

“Alright,” she said, finally pausing her stream of misery, “there’s only so much enjoyment I can pull from Thunder at any given moment, what’s the plan, V-man? You just gonna fatten me up while you abscond on your rich boy ark to greener pastures after we get your approval rates up?”

“Harriet, please, if I had an ark it surely would have been a stop on the tour along with the petting zoo.”

“Don’t get smart, you have an arcade in your basement, who knows how rich people live their lives.”

“In my experience,” he said, smugly lifting the glass to his lips, “exorbitantly.”

“Well ‘Mr. Exorbitant’, is your lifestyle too decadent to enjoy a little stormy night cinema with an old friend? I mean really, you didn’t invite me all the way out and bust out your fancy generator to give me the the joys of electricity during a storm -which, by the way, you still haven’t denied complicity in- just to talk business did you?”

“I assure you Ms. Chin my motives for inviting you over were nothing but pure…”

Great, Harriet thought, now he’s a saint.

“… but, for old time’s sake, I wouldn’t be opposed to watching a classic with the…  appropriate atmosphere and an old friend.”

“Careful who you call old, Grandpa,” she replied, scrolling through Vlad’s movies for a decent selection, “I’m seven months younger than you, remember?”

“And that gap in maturity is precisely why you have frosting on the corner of your mouth while I have a mansion overlooking…”

“The second most haunted city in America according to National Geographic?”

“If you want to focus on the negative,” Vlad said, pulling his own pastry from the tray while Harriet made her selection, “but I like to see it as a city ripe with opportunity.”

“Like the fine opportunity we had to wear our dinner a few months ago rather than eat it?”

“We move forward, my dear,” he said crossing the room into the kitchen to grab popcorn and napkins, “can’t spend all our lives dwelling on things we can’t change after all.”

As soon as the words escaped his lips, lightning ripped across the sky seconds before thunder caused the entire manor to shake, almost as if he’d cursed himself. “There’s that atmosphere again,” Harriet said, watching as the rain increased in intensity, “not sure who you pissed off exactly but I hope everyone’s as comfortable as we are for a while… well, maybe not everyone.”

“I’m a politician, darling,” Vlad said, placing the bowl in the space between them, “there’s no one in this town who wouldn’t favor a swing at me.”

“Your buddy Jack would probably pass on that.”

Taken aback, Vlad found himself studying his drink while the storm faded into background noise. Astoundingly, he finally recognized that being with Harriet had removed all thoughts of the Fenton family from his mind, specifically Jack and any bad blood between them post-incident. Ordinarily, he’d consider this lapse in memory a sign of weakness but with her he was…oddly okay with that. “Hmm, I suppose he would.”

Sensing she had slightly dampened the mood, Harriet quickly pressed play on the tablet that controlled the tv, starting the film before either of them could think further on Jack’s antics. Watching as the classic Universal logo appeared on the wall in front of them for Bela Lugosi’s Dracula, the two them settled into comfortable silence for their first movie night since college.

As they powered through the film enjoying each other’s presence, the two of them gradually began falling asleep on the couch, the grayscale light of the screen working in conjunction with the sounds of rain to hypnotize them while Helsing battled Dracula thirty feet away. Ten minutes before the credits began to roll, Vlad felt a familiar weight close the distance and place itself on his lap, causing him to temporarily seize up before gently placing his hand on Harriet’s waist.

“A city ripe with opportunity…” he began, smiling to himself.

“Well,” she said, sleepily adjusting herself to properly lie against him, “I can think of worse places to be tonight.”


	4. Heretics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A direct sequel to "Shutters" taking place as soon as Vlad falls asleep. A slightly darker atmosphere compared to everything prior but nothing that goes into the realm of excessive violence/horror and still very character focused on expanding Vlad's desires and personality when interacting with characters outside the Fenton family. Also this chapter features a showcase of some of my personal favorite headcanons with regard to Vlad including AUs and possible relationships.

Although he had fallen asleep to the sound of pouring rain and boisterous wind, it was the abrupt silence that had caused Vlad to wake up in a panic. Darting straight up, he was annoyed to clip his knees on what he assumed was his coffee table as he began stumbling around in the dark looking for a light switch.

“No more wine before bed,” he chided himself as he attempted to adjust to his sudden consciousness with a surprising difficulty, “you’re not the young man you used to be after all.”

Feeling along the walls, he began to become annoyed once he realized he had no idea where the switch was, or for that matter which of the rooms of his home he was currently in. He’d been in this situation before when the mansion was new- a late night snack had turned the return trip to his bedroom into a labyrinthian endeavor- but something about this time felt especially… off. Wracking his brain to return to a state of at least semi-functionality, Vlad finally remembered that the lights could be turned on by sound, and with a solid clap he brought light back into…

“Oh haha, very funny, Daniel.”

The burst of illumination that he’d assumed was an overhead light turning on was actually caused by hundreds of candles lighting themselves, half melted and fused to the woodwork of the old church he now found himself in. The ‘coffee table’ he’d had the displeasure of meeting already was in fact the back of a wooden pew, and as he looked around to take in more information, he found that he was in the very back of the victorian building.

“You know, taking advantage of a gentleman while he has company is very unsportsmanlike,” he called out, suspecting that Danny was still nearby, “in any other circumstance, I’d almost be proud, so for now let’s call it even and do this some other day, alright?”

It was a safe assumption to make that Danny had some part in his relocation Vlad thought, after all, ever since he had become mayor, he’d found himself on the receiving end of several childish stunts like this -a skunk wandering its way into a press conference despite high security, his shoes tying themselves together during a investment presentation and even other instances of being Oz’d into strange locations- but something about this instance gave him the slightest pause. There was an unnatural red hue to the church’s interior thanks to the candles, and the wood had been stained a deep black, making appear as though it had been through several fires and reworked into functionality out of defiance for the flames. In fact, the more he studied the interior of the room, the more he was convinced Danny may be innocent in this translocation… and the more he desperately wanted to be back home with Harriet.

“Well this has been very Angels & Demons,” he called out, unable to shake the feeling that someone had placed him here and was now watching him stumble about, “but I am a busy man, so either show yourself so we can settle whatever petty squabble has you picking a fight… or point me towards the exit and stop wasting my time.”

Silence was the only response.

“Hmph, of course.”

Moving towards the gigantic double doors at the end of the walkway, Vlad began to transform, now determined to get as far away from this place as possible. As he summoned his power, a knot formed in his stomach, knocking him to his knees as a volley of black energy temporarily snuffed out the candles surrounding him before they relit themselves. Trying again, he found himself unable to shift into his ghost form, the silence temporarily cut with a chorus of excited whispers.

“I’d recommend not trying that again if I were you” a voice beside him said, the amusement ringing in its voice.

Startled, Vlad jumped away from his newfound companion, only to slam himself against the row of pews opposite of where he now saw a cloaked stranger sitting. His robes obscured his face and any discerning features Vlad could have used to identify him, but he noted that the only sounds in the church seemed to be coming from the bands wrapped around his wrists.

Rubbing his spine from where the impact happened, Vlad rose to his full height and glared at the stranger. “And why, pray tell, is that?”

Taking Vlad’s challenge for dominance in earnest the stranger grabbed the staff sitting beside him and stood to face him. As they stood face to face, Clockwork removed his hood and shifted from his oldest state to his mid-life form, gaining a good six inches of height that put him above Vlad. “Because trust me Vladimir, you really don’t want to wake up the things that are sleeping in here.”

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Vlad began, trying to place where he’d seen that face before,  “but since you appear to know me you know I don’t respond well to idle threats.”

Rather than argue further, Clockwork simply raised his staff between the two of them and pressed the button on the clock it held. “Time. Out.”

Almost instantly, the black wood of the pews began to warp further until there were thorny tendrils wrapped around Vlad’s arms and torso, pushing him into the floor which had become a pulsing layer of flesh colored carpet before he had time to scream. His eyes went wide as the pulse became a dull thumping and the frenzied whispers he’d heard before came back as an almost deafening chorus. Shaking he reached his hand out for Clockwork, who fixed him with a sad look just as his vision began to darken.

“Time. In.”

Suddenly, the two of the them were sitting behind the pulpit, the supernatural silence of the place returned and only broken by Vlad’s now panicked breathing staccato against the ticking of clocks. Turning with a real fear that he hadn’t felt in years, he quickly looked from Clockwork to the open area where they’d just been with the blackwood pews. “Clockwork the Grand…” Vlad began, the physical descriptors finally lining up with a name rattling around in his head.

“Mayor Vladimir Sebastian Masters,” Clockwork said, addressing him without looking at him.

Under normal circumstances, this would have been a great opportunity for Vlad. Powerful ghosts always had something to offer, be it willingly or coercively, and being in the presence of the grand observer of history was nothing short of amazing, but he also got the strong impression that his conventional manipulations weren’t going to work here and whatsmore,  even with his powers he felt positive that he wouldn’t be much of an opponent for someone like Clockwork.

“To what do I owe this… honor?”

“It’s rare that I intervene in someone’s life but you are beginning to pose certain problems for us. Now, while it would be simple for me to just eliminate you and move on with my eternity…”

Especially here when I’m apparently a neutered kitten against even the god forsaken furniture, Vlad thought.

“I’ve decided to take an ‘alternative’ measure.”

At the word alternative, Clockwork once again shifted forms, this time going from a man to what appeared to be a child. As he reached again for his staff, Vlad instinctively began to make a lunge for it and attempt to escape, only to find himself paralyzed by a glare. Something about the deep scar and the millenia old stare resting on a child’s face unnerved him more than the cold burning candles that surrounded them.  “We both know that losing to a child would be a comfortably familiar experience for you,” Clockwork said, “but how about we take any unnecessary conflict off the table for now, alright?”

Settling back down, Vlad watched as Clockwork tapped his staff on the ground, sending a wave of energy through the church that Vlad feared would cause the world to begin attacking again. Instead, as the energy reached the stained glass windows on either side, they shimmered with life and began to play out different scenarios for the two of them to see. To his surprise, in each of the massive windows, there was a slightly different version of Vlad living a slightly altered life.

One showed him as an older, more defeated man, sitting in a ruined manor while the sounds the viewpoint shook, signifying an ongoing battle that the old man had accepted the inevitability of as he slowly pulled out a gun and stared at an old college picture of him, Maddie, and Jack with a look of grim determination etched into his face.

The window directly across from that showed the polar opposite scenario; the three of them were in the kitchen, laughing. Jack had his arm around both of them and the Vlad in this world was apparently in the middle of a story that held both of their attention before sending them into another fit. A blur of motion crossed the glass and Vlad noticed that that version of him had a prosthetic arm resting on the table, but seemed otherwise unbothered and happy as a younger Danny and Jazz zoomed around the adults in the room.

Raising up from his seat, Vlad began to walk through the church and take note of as many scenarios as he could. One showed him and Danielle in matching country club attire, the look of a proud father stitched onto his face and the unmistakable spoiled rich girl attitude pouring off of her even through the glass as they relaxed by the pool. Another showed him chained and bloody, his skin torn and bruised as he fought a losing battle but refused to stay down much to the delight of his opponent. Still another showed him and Desiree -a ghost he admittedly wouldn’t mind having on his side- her ghostly tail wrapped around his body as he stared from a desk and she whispered in his ears some secret that caused his lips to turn upwards in triumph as his eyes flashed red.

Turning his stroll into a run back and forth, Vlad desperately took in as many visions as he could, content to know that each was a truth in itself even if they weren’t his truth. Some were horrific; a mutated demonic version of himself tearing through the town with abandon until his head was separated from him by an unnamed assailant, a dark basement filled with wet crunching noises and his frantic hands clawing for escape before they were dragged out of frame, and a version of Jack cradling his dissolving form as ectoplasm glowed in his veins just to name a few. However, just as many were beacons of hope. He saw himself as a father, with his son being antagonistic but in the way that only family could. He saw his mother and father, alive and well into his adulthood, and he saw himself introducing them to his college friends at graduation, face unmarred and spirit unbroken. He even saw a version of himself progressing from being Clockwork’s apprentice after his accident to the two of them being closer than he’d been previously able to imagine (he would never admit it but having the observer present made this particular scenario quite embarrassing to review).

Stopping in the center of aisle, Vlad’s eyes were drawn to the largest window, a circular viewpoint on the churches back wall. Waiting for the scenario to play out, he found himself slightly annoyed when nothing appeared to be happening. Finally, after he had tuned out the other showcases as background stimuli and began to focus, the glass displayed her.

“Harriet?”

She was slightly older in the mural, with a large ring on her finger as she paced the room on the phone, her face explaining that she was in the middle of work and not to be bothered. Vlad couldn’t help but smile. Watching as the door behind her opened, Vlad saw himself enter the room with a young woman he couldn’t quite place from the distance. As if responding to his thoughts, the angle of the picture shifted so that the focus was now on her and Vlad. She had Harriet’s features mostly, but undeniably she had Vlad’s eyes and demeanor, so much so that he couldn’t help walking towards the mural as if he could somehow walk into it and disappear into a better world.

“Is that… is she?”

“Your daughter,” Clockwork said, materializing beside the glass in midair, “her name is Dana and she means the world… to them.”

Pointing his staff at the window as Dana’s homecoming continued to play out, Clockwork paused before sighing and drawing back, swinging as hard as he could at the temporal spyglass. With a thunderous crack, the mural exploded, showering a horrified Vlad with thousands of shards as the picture distorted to display on the remaining chunks of glass as best it could.

“No!” he cried, running towards the ruined glimpse of happiness, “Stop this!!”

In a low voice, Clockwork swore before winding up for a second swing. “Aufer Patienti…”

“ ** _NO!!!!_** ”

The impact of the second strike obliterated the remaining windows around the church, leaving the candles as the only source of light in the church once again. Desperate, Vlad began grabbing shards of glass to catch ghost images of Dana and Harriet before whatever energy Clockwork used dissipated fully and they were gone forever. Ignoring the cuts rapidly dominating the skin of his hand, he grabbed onto the largest chunk that had fallen in front of him as the glass returned to its stained origins. Flashes of the lives he’d just lost danced in his vision and in a fit of rage he began slinging the now useless assembly of fragments at Clockwork.

“You imbecile! Don’t you realize what you’ve done, they’re gone! All of them!”

“Very observant, Vladimir,” Clockwork said, brushing diamond dust from their cloak, “and do you know why?”

Grabbing hold of the cowl and snarling, Vlad put himself in Clockwork’s face. “Because you’re another torturous buffoon dedicated to dragging out my suffering for their amusement.”

Shaking off Vlad’s grip, Clockwork pinned him to the ground with his staff, a look between annoyance and amusement decorating their ancient face. “Ordinarily, I would hate to be the bearer of bad news… but I will since you seem incapable of realizing this on your own and ironically, we’re running out of time. Your suffering is tied to who you are as a person. The worse you continue to lose yourself in selfishness, the worse the consequences are, the more you let other people in, the less you’ll lose. Things are happening, more pages from Sojourne’s tome is being discovered every day and when the time comes I need you to do the right thing…and for you that means doing nothing. I’m not enough of a fool to think that who you are can change overnight, but I _am_ a fan of second chances so here’s yours. Take it or leave it, it’s up to you to decide how you move forward but if you start making messes too big that  _I_ have to clean up… well…”

Suddenly, the weight of Clockwork’s staff began to shift until Vlad was looking up at a massive, wicked scythe.

“….Do I make myself clear?”

Angrily, Vlad nodded. “Crystal”

Smiling, Clockwork removed his staff from Vlad’s chest. “Excellent! Well then… Time.”

“Wait...no, wait!”

“Out.”

The church consumed him with a fervor this time, before he could offer any more objections, the carpet had adsorbed him into its folds as the blackwood tendrils pulled him through the fabric between the three dimensions. Watching until all traces of Vlad Masters had been removed from the world, Clockwork sighed and tapped his staff twice on the floor, snuffing out the candles. As the darkness enveloped the chapel, the glittering fragments of glass seemed to multiply as the ground became a starry carpet began taking human form.

“Interesting tactic,” the shadow spoke, “but I still say you should have left him with me for a while to drive the point home, all you’ve done is kick a hornets nest.”

“We’ll see, have some faith in the mortals, Nocturn, they could surprise you every now and then…”

Scoffing, Nocturn snapped and returned the two of them to Clockwork’s lair to reduce the amount strain of having two eternals in a mortal space too long. “And I suppose the sun could disappear overnight too but I won’t hold my breath for an endless night so soon.”

“It’s a good thing we don’t breathe then, isn’t it?”

Snapping his fingers again -this time with a roll of his eyes- Nocturn released Vlad from his influence, atomizing the structured they’d used for their little PSA and returning the energy to the far corners of Unworld from which they drew it. He trusted Clockwork to know the right path to take, but leaving a mortal with splinters of alternate reality in his head seemed like leaving a flamethrower at daycare, besides, he had a feeling Vlad had enough issues to work through without their meddling.


End file.
